


The Chronicles Of Ishida Mitsunari and Otani Yoshitsugu

by soymirukuu



Series: the yoshimitsu agenda ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) [1]
Category: Samurai Warriors (Video Games)
Genre: BUT I LOVE THIS PAIRING AND LOOKING AT THE NUMBER OF FICS IT HAS I JUST HAD TO MAKE ONE MYSELF, Canon Universe, Comfort, Fluff, Hugs, I WILL DIE FOR THESE TWO, I forgot how to tag, M/M, Pre-Relationship, THERE'S NOT ENOUGH CONTENT FOR THESE TWO, hideyoshi also just pops in for 5 seconds, kind of??, no angst here im not into pain, sakon is just mentioned lol im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 14:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soymirukuu/pseuds/soymirukuu
Summary: It all started when Mitsunari found a wanted poster for a criminal who was being hunted down for killing many men.And of course, the criminal had to look just like Yoshitsugu.(Based on Yoshitsugu's Chronicle Mode Events,  with a few tweaks here and there.)





	The Chronicles Of Ishida Mitsunari and Otani Yoshitsugu

**Author's Note:**

> i got into sw a few months ago and i immediately fell in love with these two help me  
> and frankly my writing skills are rusty as hell but yknow what i can count the number of fics this pairing has on one hand 
> 
> so i had to take matters into my own hands
> 
>  
> 
> also i scream about yoshimitsu 24/7 on my twitter, @soymilkbusuk so feel free to check it out if ya want

Every morning at around this hour, Mitsunari always took some time to walk around the town, at the time when the streets danced a line between packed and empty, just the way he liked it. Crowds had always made him feel suffocated, while empty roads felt a little too desolate for his liking. 

 

A few shops were already open for business, and the delightful scent of sweets being sold from nearby stands filled the air. He enjoyed watching the town slowly come to life as the people started their day to day routines.

 

This was his dream. To build his own town, where everyone is happy and at peace, where they no longer have to worry about wars or battles.

 

Where all the chaos of this age has ceased to exist.

 

Mitsunari walked along the pebbled road at a leisurely pace, taking in the fresh morning air. He turned left at a corner, noticing that a sizeable crowd was gathering around a wooden notice board. On that notice board was a large wanted poster, with a detailed painting of a man drawn with ink. One could describe his features as elegant. His eyes were focused and alert. Long black hair draped around his shoulders elegantly, a sharp contrast from the snow white robes he wore.

 

Under the painting, it was written that the man was a 'criminal who had indiscriminately killed a thousand men.'

 

"That's me."

 

Mitsunari's heart had nearly stopped when he suddenly heard a voice speak beside him. Seemingly out of nowhere, Yoshitsugu appeared by his side, staring at the notice board with the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes.

 

"Yoshitsugu, just when did you-"

 

"There's this store that sells excellent manjus, and for a cheap price as well. I managed to get some before they were sold out. Would you like one, Mitsunari?" Yoshitsugu asked, taking one of the buns and placing it in Mitsunari's hands before the man could utter a reply.

 

"I- Never mind the manju, that poster is a more pressing issue right now! People could easily mistake you for the killer," Mitsunari hissed. He grabbed Yoshitsugu's arm and dragged him behind a rather narrow alley, hidden from the prying eyes of passersby. 

 

"If I really am the killer, wouldn't it be dangerous for you to bring me to a place like this, just the two of us?" 

 

There were a few seconds of silence before Mitsunari opened his mouth to speak.

 

"I know you, Yoshitsugu. You are not the kind of man who would slay innocent civilians. Did you think I would trust a murderer to fight alongside me and watch my back in battle?"

 

For a fleeting moment, Mitsunari noticed a shift in Yoshitsugu's expression, but it was quickly replaced with the usual unreadable mask. 

 

"Anyways, I'll go and talk to the patrolling guards and ask them to take down the posters as soon as possible."

 

"There's no need," Yoshitsugu said, shaking his head.

 

"What? But you could be accused of a crime you didn't commit!"

 

"Even if that happens, my innocence will be proven eventually. I just have to let the flow of the times carry me."

 

Before Mitsunari could even open his mouth to protest, Yoshitsugu had bid him farewell and left the alley quietly. He bit his lip and curled his fists, stopping immediately once he remembered the manju still held in his hand. It was still slightly warm, albeit a little flat. He took a small, tentative bite.

 

"...It's delicious," he muttered.

 

 

 

 

 

Once Mitsunari heard Yoshitsugu was being questioned as a suspect, he immediately rushed to the place where the interrogation was being held. A soldier was caught off guard by the sight of him running towards the entrance at almost full speed.

 

"Lord Mitsunari! What brings you here?"

 

"Where's Yoshitsugu?"

 

"Well, my lord, I'm afraid he's being questioned right now−"

 

"Just tell me where he is!" 

 

"Over in that cell, my lord." The soldier meekly pointed towards one of the cells, and Mitsunari ran towards it and slammed the door open.

 

"Confess, Yoshitsugu! Confess that you are the killer of all these innocent people!" A voice shouted from within.

 

Inside, Yoshitsugu was sitting down, looking calm as always. In front of him was an infuriated officer, who turned around to glare at whoever dared interrupt the ongoing interrogation. His expression quickly morphed from anger to fear once he recognized the figure standing before him.

 

"L-lord Mitsunari!" He stammered before bowing quickly. 

 

"Release him. He has done no wrong," Mitsunari said, barely being able to keep himself from lashing out completely at the officer, who in turn looked flabbergasted.

 

"But, my lord-" Mitsunari gave him a glare that effectively shut him up. Yoshitsugu stayed quiet, eyes flicking over the two men in front of him.

 

"Hold on, hold on. I think there's been misunderstanding here," a voice piped up. 

 

Hideyoshi stood behind Mitsunari, glancing around the cell with mild interest before looking at the silent Yoshitsugu, the upset Mitsunari and the terrified officer.

 

"Yoshitsugu is innocent, I'll personally vouch for him.”

 

The officer muttered his apologies, bowing before Hideyoshi before scampering out. Yoshitsugu stood up to face Hideyoshi.

 

"Thank you, Lord Hideyoshi." He bowed slowly.

 

Hideyoshi shook his head. "You should be thanking Mitsunari. If he hadn't arrived so quickly, you could've been in bigger trouble. I'll go ahead and talk with the other guards about this whole mess. Those posters really should be taken down as soon as possible."

 

Hideyoshi bid them farewell and went off, leaving them both inside the dimly lit cell. Mitsunari ran his hands through his hair frustratedly and sighed.

 

"Yoshitsugu, why didn't you say anything to defend yourself? The situation could have escalated if we had arrived just a little later! If you don't give an explanation, people aren't going to understand−" 

 

"Thank you, Mitsunari," Yoshitsugu replied in a sincere voice. His silver eyes met Mitsunari's gaze, steady and unwavering.

 

With just those three words, the stream of reprimands in Mitsunari's throat died, replaced by an almost inaudible 'you're welcome' and a strange feeling blooming in his chest that he can't quite put his finger on.

 

 

 

 

 

It was a cloudless sky that night, the moon large and pale against the dark, starry backdrop. 

His surroundings were quiet, save for the occasional chirping of crickets. Mitsunari walked along the long corridor that led to Yoshitsugu's room, bringing along with him paperwork he needed some assistance with. Once he arrived in front of the room, he gave the wooden door frame a few knocks.

 

"Yoshitsugu, I need to talk with you about the newly sent provisions and armor for the troops. May I come in?"

 

Silence. He knocked again, somewhat hesitantly.

 

"Yoshitsugu?"

 

Still there was no answer. Mitsunari debated between just leaving and entering the room without permission, before he decided to place his hand on the door, gently sliding it open.

 

The room was organized and clean, although with barely any decor or personal items inside it. On a wooden desk in the corner there were neatly stacked papers, an inkpad, some brushes and a sleeping Yoshitsugu, his head resting against his folded arms. There was a slight gap in the blue scarf he was wearing.

 

Mitsunari took a seat across Yoshitsugu, observing the sleeping man. He noticed the dark shadows under Yoshitsugu's eyes, accentuated by the warm glow of candle light. His shoulders rose and fell slowly in a steady rythm. Long, dark hair cascaded down his shoulders gracefully, not a single strand out of place.

 

He looks tired, Mitsunari thought. His hand reached out to fix Yoshitsugu's scarf.

 

The instant he touched the cloth, Yoshitsugu's eyes opened and he immediately sat upright. Mitsunari flung his hand away quickly, hopefully before the other man could notice and ask what he was doing.

 

"You saw... my face, didn't you...?" Yoshitsugu murmured in an ominous voice. "All who happen to catch a glimpse of my face get cursed... and die within three years."

 

"Hmph. You know I'm not one for silly superstitions. Surely their deaths could have nothing to do with your face whatsoever," Mitsunari scoffed.

 

Yoshitsugu stayed quiet, placing both his hands on the table and clenching his fists tightly. Mitsunari noticed Yoshitsugu's shoulders shaking, and sudden pang of worry began to grow in his chest as the silence stretched on.

 

He said the wrong thing again, didn't he?

 

"Yoshitsugu-" 

 

The apologies his mind had rapidly formed came to a halt when Yoshitsugu let out a low chuckle. It was a clear and soothing sound that, Mitsunari quickly discovered, actually sounded very pleasant.

 

Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

 

Yoshitsugu didn't bother hiding the mirth dancing in his eyes when he directed his gaze back at Mitsunari.

 

"I was merely joking."

 

"You really need to make it clear when you're joking and when you're not," Mitsunari crossed his arms and huffed, though a surge of relief washed over him. "Most people don't joke with a straight face."

 

To this, Yoshitsugu said nothing. He slowly raised his right hand high in the air. Mitsunari's brows furrowed in puzzlement for a few seconds, but he copied the gesture. This seemed to please Yoshitsugu. They clapped their hands together, the sound reverberating throughout the otherwise silent room.

 

"We are linked, without even having to talk. That makes me happy." 

 

Mitsunari didn't need to see the fond smile hidden underneath that blue scarf to notice how happy Yoshitsugu seemed. He felt his own lips twitch upwards into a small smile, and the paperwork he had brought was left forgotten amidst the comfortable flow of conversation they fell into.

 

 

 

 

 

The sound of rushing water mingled with the crunching of pebbles as Mitsunari walked towards the riverbank. It was a beautiful sunset, the sky a stunning fusion of pink, blue and orange. Thin wisps of cloud stretched lazily along the horizon. He noticed Yoshitsugu's familiar figure standing a few feet away and approached him.

 

Why had Yoshitsugu invited him here so suddenly?

 

As if on cue, Yoshitsugu bent over and picked up one of the stones collected on the riverbed, toying with it in the palm of his hand.

 

"This stone was exactly how I've been living my life; not saying anything, not moving, just quietly following the flow. You said that I have to speak for people to know what I'm thinking. Do you hate my way of life, then?"

 

"Giving in to the flow once every now and then has its advantages. You avoid risks and you won't be subject to ridicule," Mitsunari mused. That question was rather out of the blue.

 

"There are times where staying quiet and simply following the flow are the best courses of action. So no, I don't hate it, per say," he continued.

 

Yoshitsugu threw the stone back into the river, observing silently as it created ripples across the surface of the water, before slowly sinking back into the sandy riverbed. 

 

Then he turned towards Mitsunari and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

 

"This is what the flow is telling me to do."

 

Any line of thinking within Mitsunari's brain came to a sudden, jerking halt. Here he was, standing by the riverbanks, with Yoshitsugu's face buried at the crook of his neck and his arms wrapped around his waist. The loud thumping of his own heartbeats seemed to drown out the sound of rushing water around them.

 

After a few moments, Mitsunari lifted his arms and returned the hug, feeling his own face grow warmer with every passing second. Yoshitsugu raised his head to meet Mitsunari's gaze.

 

"Your face has gone completely red," he said with a small laugh.

 

"...Shut up," Mitsunari muttered, placing his forehead against the other man's shoulders in an attempt to hide his face. Yoshitsugu let out a breathy chuckle, running his fingers through Mitsunari's hair affectionately. They stood there for a while, held in each other’s arms, falling into a comfortable silence. A chilly breeze blew past as the sky slowly started to darken. 

 

All of a sudden, distant cries and yells can be heard. Yoshitsugu peered curiously at the direction the noises emanated from while Mitsunari quickly jolted back, looking somewhat panicked.

 

"...I forgot to tell Sakon I was heading out for a bit."

 

"My lord, where are you?!" The cries sounded louder and clearer, and a few soldiers began to appear in the distance. 

 

“Well then, shall we head back? I fear if we let Master Sakon worry any longer he might just start sprouting grey hairs," Yoshitsugu offered his hand as a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. Mitsunari laughed and took his hand, intertwining their fingers together. 

 

"Yes, let's."


End file.
